


Dragon Valley

by PsychicBananaSplit



Category: The Try Guys - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Psychics/Psionics, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst, Canon Disabled Character, Disabled Character, Dreams, Dreams and Nightmares, Dreamscapes, Dreamsharing, Eugene is Even Worse, Ghosts, Grumpy Ned, Haunting, Inspired by Dreams, Kidnapping, Magic, Missing Persons, Multi, Ned is Bad at Feelings, Prophetic Dreams, Supernatural Elements, Superstition, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Visions in dreams
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 17:33:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19773094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsychicBananaSplit/pseuds/PsychicBananaSplit
Summary: Ned Fulmer is a cop whose wife, Ariel, vanished unexpectedly two years prior. He has been trying to solve the case of her disappearance for equal amount of time but never has succeeded in getting past constant dead ends. His friend and fellow cop, Keith Habursberger, decides to investigate frequent and loud crashes in Ned’s backyard. In fear of the possibility of that ‘thing’ making the noises being the reason of his wife’s disappearance, Ned has never looked out there himself. After finding nothing obvious, they both agree (Ned very disbelievingly) that it has something to do with the supernatural, and they visit a psychic.Zach Kornfeld lives in a house with the ghost of a dead woman and her child, so his life can’t really get anymore berserk; until he finds himself at the doorstep of the local psychic and meets two other people, and the three men are told that they are destined to save not one world, but two.





	Dragon Valley

**Author's Note:**

> i know i've started fics and haven't finished them, but here's another one.  
> the street that eugene lives on doesn't exist. i actually don't specify where everyone lives because i just didn't want to, so, let's just say that zach, keith and ned all live an hour or less away from eugene.  
> they will all be more interesting in the future, trust me. this is just the exposition.  
> i won't be shipping any of them together. the relationship tag with all of them is because of their friendship.   
> wyatt is maggie's child. also, they both haunt zach's house.   
> alright. let's commence to the story.

**_Knock Knock Knock._ **

Ned groaned, and shuffled around in his bed to look at the blaring red digital clock’s numbering.

**_Knock Knock Knock Knock Knock._ **

_ Who the fuck would be waking me up at 6:42, in the morning, on a Saturday? _

Ned groaned again, shoving his head into his pillow as the person at his door had started knocking obnoxiously for the third time.

**_Knock Knock Knock Knock Knock Knock Knock Knock._ **

“Okay, okay! Jesus Christ man, give me a break!”

The bed creaked loudly, and remnants of his migraine from the night before came flooding back. He hurriedly (albeit groggily) shoved himself into a pair of pants he  _ knows _ needs to be put in the wash, as well as a random shirt in the same condition.

**_Knock Knock Knock Knock Knock Knock Knock KnockKnockKnockKnock-_ **

Ned yanked the door open and sent an annoyed glare at Keith’s general direction (there could only be one person capable of this amount of persistence to irk someone). 

“Keith.”

“Ned.” Said person quirked an eyebrow.

“What do you need? At six in the morning?” Keith raised an eyebrow, no doubt at his friend’s just-got-out-of-bed look.

“Yikes. Wild night?”

“You know very well that that isn’t it.” Ned’s voice was stern and bitter in irritation. “Now, tell me what you need, or get out.”

A loud thump came from the backyard, and Keith’s eyes widened. Ned suppressed a shudder.

“I need to talk about  _ that. _ ” He tipped his head towards the yard and gave Ned a pointed look.

Ned gave him a wary look. He crossed his arms. “What about it?” His dulcet voice echoed uncomfortably in the room.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

_ Ned woke up in his small house to his alarm.  _

_ BeepBeepBeepBeep-t h u n k _

_ Ariel mumbled something in her sleep beside him. Or, she said something totally aware of her surroundings, and very much awake.  _

_ Ned woke early in the mornings. For being a cop, one that has to walk his dog in the morning, eat a (sufficient) breakfast, then actually get ready, that takes a lot of time. He still doesn’t even know why he became a cop in the first place, if it would be this much torture.  _

_ After walking Beanie, eating and putting on his uniform, he draped himself over the bed to lightly peck his wife on the cheek. He whispered a goodbye, and closed the door on his way out. _

_ ~~~ _

_ “So, there’s this guy that just got turned down by some hot chick, right? So, the next day, he knows all of her information, and he strangled her with her own sheets. Isn’t that crazy?” Keith, his partner, had spewed just about the whole file he had in his hands since they got their morning coffees. Ned nodded absentmindedly.  _

_ “Mhm, cool.” _

_ “You’re not even paying attention.” _

_ “Sure I am.” Keith gave him a dubious glance. _

_ “Ok, so, when was his second kill? Who was she?” _

_ Honestly, Ned hadn’t been listening all that well. “Um,” he chuckled awkwardly. “I have no idea. Sorry, Keith. My minds been somewhere else lately.” Keith sort of, well, sagged. He lost the happy little skip in his step momentarily. _

_ Keith hummed. “Yep, you know, with your wife and everything. When aren’t you thinking about her?” The skip came back. “When you guys first met, I knew that you would get together. Like, I mean, you two always acted like an old married couple anyway, so,” his voice trailed off. _

_ Ned nodded. Keith hummed again. “You know what we should do right about now?” _

_ “What?” _

_ “Get some donuts.” Keith’s face lit up like a light and he bounded off like a dog. Ned laughed. _

_ ~~~ _

_ The house was a little too quiet when Ned came back. He placed a tentative hand on his gun, force of habit. He stalked cautiously down the hall.  _

_ He knew that Ariel was home. Her car was in the driveway. Where else could she possibly be? She wouldn’t scare him again; not after what happened last time. _

_ “Ariel?” He gently pushed their bedroom door open. If she wasn’t in the kitchen, bathroom, living room, basement, or store, she had to be in their room. Or the backyard.  _

_ And she wasn’t in their room.  _

_ Ned rushed to the backyard door, to see that he had missed it being slightly ajar. He mentally smacked himself, and went outside to see if Ariel was back there, for some reason. It was nearing winter, and that meant that the temperatures had fallen considerably, even down to the negatives.  _

_ An ominous thump. _

_ And Ariel wasn’t there either. _

_ ~~~ _

“So, what you’re saying,” Ned asked incredulously, “Is that my  _ wife’s disappearance _ might have something to do with the  _ supernatural?”  _ He would have laughed if the situation was much less dire. 

“Yes.” Keith said it with so much sincerity and seriousness, that it couldn’t possibly have been  _ Keith.  _ You know what, maybe there was a ghost involvement, maybe possession? What, some poltergeist haunting his house? Sure, Keith. 

“Yeah, right. Have fun traveling down that dead-end.” He started to close the door, but Keith pushed out his hand between it and the doorframe.

“No, wait, hear me out!” Ned sighed loudly, and considered closing the door on Keith’s fingers (he’s done so before, our of exasperation. Believe me). A few moments passed before he sighed again and let him into the house. 

“Zach! Wake up! You’re going to be late for work!” Zach jumped out of bed to the yells of his roommate. Well, not-so-roommate, just inhibitor. He’s been around for a while, he’s fun. He’s twelve. Anyway, he was woken up by his ghostly, not-so-roommate, friend.

“Wyatt! I told you  _ not  _ to bother Zach when he’s  _ sleeping.”  _ Maggie tip-toed in, whisper-shouting to her kid and reaching out to him. Wyatt, bubbly and jumpy, bounded over to his mom and smiled. Both his and his mom’s eyes had a certain sparkle in them, and Zach didn’t really know if that was because they were dead or because they had killer genetics.d

He wiped his eyes, trying to brush the blurriness away. “It’s a Saturday anyway, Mags. I can make pancakes.”

“Pancakes!” Wyatt starts to dance around Maggie, who stumbled back from the sudden motion. He chants, “Pancakes, pancakes, pancakes!”

“Okay, okay.” Maggie laughs breathlessly, staring up at Zach with mock malice. “We’ll get you some pancakes.”

Zach gulped at the shiver down his back. “Yeah, sure, we’ll get you some pancakes, bud.”

As soon as they left the room, Maggie’s dress dancing behind her, he peeled off the covers and stood up. He could  _ feel  _ all the individual bones creaking against one another, the deep, familiar ache that settled in last night growing larger. Zach winced, and reached for the painkillers beside his bed. 

It was nearing nine o’clock by the time Keith closed their meeting, waving a goodbye and driving away. Ned re-filled his coffee mug for the fourth time and put his friend’s cup in the sink, rinsing it. 

He glanced at the small business card that Keith had given him.  _ A psychic, huh?  _ The large eye encompassing the one side of the purple backdrop was staring at him, despite being too-wide and too-animated to seem like it was watching him. He flipped it over;  _ Eugene Lee Yang, psychic of Carmel-By-The-Sea, California. 112 Valley Street.  _ A phone number scrawled messily and stylishly at the same time was written on the back.

Ned sighed for the nth time that day, and took a sip from his mug.

_ It’s too early for this. _

Trembling hands straightened glass bottles teeming with mystical elements and glittering ingredients in comfort, trying to calm down in the familiarity. The kettle was whistling in the back, but the psychic gripped onto the counter and breathed in, out, and back in. 

The dream was violent and strange. It held no answers to the many questions it had asked, like the many times it had reoccurred.

Eugene lifted his head, opened his eyes. “The tea,” he muttered to himself. Walking back to the kitchen, he brushed the aftermath of the dream behind him.


End file.
